


The Reception

by BlueSkyFlying



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Goofy Jim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 02:46:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14034453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueSkyFlying/pseuds/BlueSkyFlying
Summary: The Captain's attendance at an important reception proves to be unexpected





	The Reception

The Reception

 

Dr McCoy yawned widely. It had been a long day. The sudden outbreak of Callistian fever had meant every single crew member having to be vaccinated while those unlucky few who had come down with the damn thing were in isolation. He was looking forward to a short drink and a long sleep.

The bridge buzzed. “Yes Spock? What is it?”

“I take it there is no likelihoood of the Captain being able to attend the reception tonight?”

“No Spock, this is one he’s going to have to miss. God knows how his system is going to react with this vaccine. I’ve got him tucked up in sickbay and Dr Hassan is going to keep an eye on him.”

“Lieutenant Uhura and I will tender his apologies. I’m sure the Captain will be disappointed to miss this event.”

“Drinking warm sherry and having to make small talk with a lot of brain dead upper echelons? I think he’ll be happy to be out of it, “ laughed McCoy. “You have a good time now.”

“The event is being co-sponsored by the Luna Foundation as well as Starfleet, Doctor. There will be a great many highly regarded representatives of the academic and scientific communities present as well as Star Fleet.”

“Maybe just as well Jim is missing it then,” says McCoy.

Spock may privately agree but does not like to say so.

\-------

_Two hours later._

Jim sits bolt upright in his biobed. The Star Fleet Reception. He is supposed to be there!

Sickbay is quiet, the lights dimmed. There are no other patients. Dr Hassan is in the CMO’s office but when Jim takes a peek, he is face down on the desk snoring. Ahhh, thinks Jim, let him sleep.

Mmm, better change first. Jim makes his way to his quarters, zig-zagging to avoid the bear traps he heard Bones mentioning. No bears yet, they’re probably hanging out in engineering having a crafty smoke and sneering at stupid humans laying traps. Jim tends to agree with the bears – the thing is, even if you catch a bear, what are you then going to do with it? Ha, they hadn’t thought about that one.

He beams at passing crew members who turn to watch his progress with bemused looks on their faces. His sick bay gown is coming adrift at the rear – Jim notices the draught.

In his quarters, he changes into his dress greys and then goes to the transporter room to beam down to the reception.

\-----

The grand Starfleet Reception is in full swing. Admiral Barnett stands in a corner feeling glum. And trapped. As does his wife. Ambassador Duriess is one of the most striking females in the room and certainly the best dressed. The Ambassador knows it and likes other people to know it as well. She has already made slighting comments about the dress worn by Mrs Barnett (including the fact that she remembers the dress from the last time the Admiral’s wife wore it at a similar occasion). Mrs Barnett – who is, in fact, a very well regarded academic and should know better – is feeling as glum as her husband.

The Admiral looks at the glass of something fizzy he is holding and wishes it was something stronger. It is calling itself champagne but the Admiral has his doubts, as do the French who are currently pursuing the producers through the courts. But it is probably cheap and Starfleet has to make cuts somewhere.

He is also very hungry. He had understood there was be a meal served but in fact it is only canapes. Tasty mouthfuls (he managed to snag one as he came in) but like many others before him, he is finding out that it is very difficult to hold a glass in one hand and a plate and napkin in the other and keep the front of his dress uniform clean.

He wishes the Ambassador and her party would circulate to annoy someone else but she seems content to stay and sneer.

“Oh look, “ cries Mrs Barnett in relief. “There’s Jimmy! I mean, Captain Kirk.” She waves frantically at the newcomer.

They turn as one to look at the new arrival. Jim is resplendent in his dress greys but has somehow elected to accessorise with bright orange trainers and purple socks. His hair is also standing straight up on tip toes. He sees Admiral and Mrs Barnett and beams at them and the room suddenly feels lighter.

Jim sweeps on the Admiral’s wife as if she is a long lost relation and gives her a proper kiss on each cheek (Jim doesn’t do air kissing). He then looks at the Ambassador and her party and then back expectantly at the Admiral.

“Madam Ambassador, may I introduce Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise,” says the Admiral.

“Delighted, I’m sure,” says the Ambassador. As Jim moves forward, she moves backward just in case he decides to kiss her. One of her aides whispers something to her. She smiles sweetly. “Ah yes, I remember, the farm boy who made good. How…democratic Star Fleet is becoming – such representation from the provinces.”

“Ooh alcohol,” chirps Jim and grabs a passing waiter, relieving him of his tray of glasses. He holds the tray casually in one hand and gulps down one of the glasses of champagne. He sneezes as the bubbles go up his nose, apologises and then downs another.   The Ambassador and her party look at him as if a chimp in uniform has joined them.

“I remember when this type of reception used to be something, “ she says with a sad smile to her aide. “The crème de la crème, the finest foods and wines, the women in the finest designer gowns.”  

Here she takes another snide look at Mrs Barnett’s dress. Mrs Barnett blushes and Jim notices. He likes Mrs Barnett. He is one of the few who has actually read her works on 12th century Andorian erotic literature and is always happy to discuss it with her.   And she is always nice to him (and he feels that she will stand up for him if her husband ever decides to have him shot).

“That’s a very nice frock _you_ have on,” he says to the Ambassador. “My nan used to have curtains in that fabric.”

Admiral Barnett almost chokes on his wine. The Ambassador looks as if she cannot believe her ears. She turns on her heel and she and her party move to the other side of the room. Barnett feels he should say something to Kirk (this could start a diplomatic incident), but his wife is smiling again and dammit so is he.

Jim is looking around him. “Is there any food? I could murder a kebab. “

He gives his tray to a surprised passing Commodore and darts over to the side of the room where the table of beautiful finger food is still largely untouched. Jim feels the small delicate china plates provided are not going to cut it and lifts instead a large platter, which he fills with a heaped selection of party nibbles. The serving staff look carving knives at him. “God helps those who help themselves,” Jim informs them. He then returns to the Barnetts and proffers it – Jim is nothing but generous of soul.

“Mmmm, these cheesy things are good. I hope there’s nothing here I’m allergic to – it’s a bit of party pooper when I fall over and start going blue.”

“Oh do be careful, Jim dear,” says Mrs Barnett.

“I can always sue the caterers. It’s an occupational hazard with me. My brother used to say we had the only school canteen in Iowa with its own defibrillator.”

Admiral Barnett has discovered that with Jim holding the platter, he now has a free hand for eating.   The evening is getting better and better.

Eventually the orchestra strikes up.

“My dance, I believe, Mrs B?” and Jim sweeps Mrs Barnett onto the dance floor.

\----

At the other side of the room, Lieutenant Uhura gives her partner, Commander Spock, a sharp dig in the ribs. She then gesticulates to the dancefloor.

“What’s he doing here? I thought he was safe in sickbay.”

“Indeed,” says Spock in surprise. He moves them to a quiet corner and gets out his communicator and calls McCoy. It takes some time for that gentleman to answer.

“Wassa matter?”

“I am calling about the Captain.”

“Nothing to worry about, Spock. Like I said, he’s tucked up in bed in Sickbay. Hassan’s keeping an eye on him.”

“I must beg to differ, Doctor,” says Spock “as I am at this moment watching him demonstrate the Argentine tango. With considerable panache and also with Admiral Barnett’s wife.”

“Ohmigod. I’m on my way. Don’t let him do anything stupid.”

Spock ponders that warning as the doctor signs off. He turns to find Uhura but she has moved to ….join the queue of women waiting to learn the tango from Jim.

“What?” she says at the expression on Spock’s face. “It’s sexy. It’s something I’ve always wanted to learn.”

“Oh Captain Kirk,” squeaks one of his admirers. “Wherever did you learn to dance like that?”

“Not in Riverside Iowa,” sneers one bystander.

“God, no, “ says Jim nonchalantly swinging his partner into a deep dip. “It was when I was working as a gigolo in Buenos Aires.”

Strangely to Spock this remark seems to stir a murmur of admiration rather than shock and the queue is getting longer.

====

The Vice-President (R&D) of the Luna Foundation (the sponsor of the event) sits in a corner and nervously reviews the notes for his speech. His is to be the key note speech of the evening – his superior has impressed on him the importance of the event, although the event is not exactly what he expected – there seems to be an impromptu dance class going on in the middle of the room. But he must retain a sense of decorum and gravitas.

“ _We face an uncertain future,”_ he mouths to himself, “ _but has this not been the same for all of those who have gone before? Yes, there is much to fear. We have faced attack from our enemies, disease, starvation but we are meeting these challenges through research and development, advances in technology and an ethos of mutual respect and co-operation_.”

It is a good enough speech, if a little dry. He is not the type of person who can ad lib jokes at such affairs and pre-planned jokes actually written into a speech always seem clunky if you aren’t a stand up comedian. He can already envisage his colleagues smirking and making comments behind their hands.

The master of ceremonies calls the reception to order and people move to the chairs by the stage. The Vice-President ascends the dais. He can already feel the palms of his hands getting wet as he looks down at the sea of sober faces. Well, all sober except for one young Starfleet officer in the front row who is beaming at him in a very friendly fashion.

He taps the microphone a couple of times (unnecessarily) and casts off.

He has not actually written the speech himself and wishes that the author had stuck to the maxim of ‘shorter is better’. After just two pages he can see the audience is getting fidgety.   But now he is coming into the home straight.

“We face an uncertain future but has this not been the same for all of those who have gone before? Yes, there is much to fear. Attack from our enemies, disease, starvation…” his dramatic pause for effect is unfortunately filled by another voice.

“Velociraptors.”

The Vice President looks up in surprise. It is the young Starfleet officer who is still beaming at him.

“Velociraptors are scary too.”

The Vice-President is taken aback. No one had told him that the speech was going to involve audience participation. But the young officer is looking at him with such a trusting expression that he is reminded of his own son many years ago. To hell with it.

“Yes, velociraptors are scary too,” he agrees and is surprised when there is a ripple of laughter around the room. He attacks the final paragraphs of his speech with renewed vigour .

He expects the usual polite hand clap one always gets at such affairs and is surprised again when the young officer leaps to his feet applauding madly. After a second or two of looking at each other in confusion, the rest of the room follow suit. (The press report a standing ovation.)

Descending to the floor the Vice-President is congratulated not on his speech but on being able to judge the mood of the room so adroitly. It is one of the most memorable speeches they have heard in a long time.

\----

Spock looks around the room in increasing desperation. Where is McCoy?

He is reluctant to just go over and grab his Captain but is concerned that there should be no escalation of …weird behaviour. The reputation of the Enterprise is at stake. Lieutenant Uhura has not been much help. The Captain had been delighted to demonstrate the tango with her, earnestly assuring her “You have to look mean to do the tango well – you’re a natural”.

At last he sees a harried looking McCoy being led through the room by a member of staff.

“How the hell did he get off the ship? Why didn’t anybody stop him?” the doctor demands.

“More importantly, Doctor – how can we get him back on the ship? We do not want to cause a scene if he is unwilling to leave.”

“If I may make a suggestion?” It is the Admiral’s wife coming up behind them. “If you were perhaps to tell him that Mr Scott had caught a bear? In one of his bear traps?”

Spock straightens. “I must apologise Ma’am to you and your husband. Unfortunately the Captain is having an unfortunate reaction to the vaccine for Callistian fever. He is not supposed to be here.”

Mrs Barnett smiles warmly. “Don’t apologise, Commander. Jimmy’s about the only thing that has made tonight bearable. I haven’t heard any complaints about his behaviour either so don’t worry about your ship’s reputation. Even the Admiral is having a good time.”

“Thank you Ma’am. We do need to remove him, however, and get him back to sickbay.”

“Of course, but by the way, Commander, what is the fascination with bear traps?”

McCoy smiles. “He must have heard me speaking with the medical staff One of the symptoms of Callistian fever is the abnormal retention of oxygen in the lungs which makes it difficult to exhale – it’s called air trapping.”

Jim’s face lights up when he hears about the bear. He is only too happy to accompany Spock and McCoy back to the ship (although McCoy cannot bear to think of him being disappointed and almost wishes they could conjure a bear from somewhere). Uhura stays behind in command of the dance floor.

\------

 

One of the diplomatic staff from Perdu IX storms up to Admiral Barnett as they depart.

“Is that man inebriated?” he demands.

The Admiral smiles. “No, that man is in Starfleet.”

 

The end

 

 

 

 


End file.
